


i bet you look good on the dance floor

by nessismore



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 11:19:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/638329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nessismore/pseuds/nessismore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five Avengers Darcy danced with and one she took home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i bet you look good on the dance floor

**Author's Note:**

> Just a fluffy little friendship fic for the avengerkink prompt:
> 
> 5 Avengers Darcy Danced With, and 1 She Went Home With
> 
> Feel free to interpret the "go home with" as you like.
> 
> +Bonus if each person she dances with is in a different setting/they do a different dance/style.
> 
> Title from the Arctic Monkeys song of the same name. Unbeta'd. (and no smut because I'm bad at it)

 

 

THOR 

Thor’s welcome back celebration is in full swing, which means that there’s lots of drinking and revelry. For a covert organization, S.H.I.E.L.D. knows how to party hard. Thor’s brought his Asgardian friends and they’re trying to show everyone how Asgardians like to party it up.

Jane’s all danced out for now, so Thor’s spinning Darcy around and around and around so that she’s barely touching the ground and she’s feeling giddy and she’s laughing like a so hard she can’t breathe. She feels like Rose spinning around the dance floor with Jack, and it’s dizzying and ridiculous and fun. He puts her down, and there’s more spinning. She’s glad she’s wearing the dress with the flowy skirt because she likes the way it twirls. There’s enough stomping and shouting and cheering throughout that dance that Darcy feels a little like she’s back at a frat party, although there’s less of a chance of her getting thrown up on here. Unless Agent Sitwell gets too close. He’s definitely looking a little green around the gills.

Thor twirls her around again, so hard that she goes spinning like a top. She lets out a whoop. For a moment she thinks she’s going to go crashing to the ground, but then strong arms wrap around her waist and she’s steady on her feet again. Looking up, she meets Steve’s laughing eyes.

“You okay?” he asks. She nods. He holds her until she feels steady. She presses a quick kiss to his lips, then looks back at Thor.

“Let’s do it again.”

 

 

CLINT

The rec room is a disaster. None of the cleaning staff comes up to this room, and everybody’s _supposed_ to pick up after themselves, but the guys aren’t so good at that. Darcy hates cleaning, but she hates the mess even more. So she asks JARVIS to turn on some tunes while she picks up dirty dishes, cleans out the fridge, and puts away books and movies. Clint comes into the kitchen while she’s bouncing back to the kitchenette, tossing her hair around to the beat of “Thunderstruck.”

“William Tell,” she says in greeting, putting mugs the dishes in the sink and bopping her way towards him.

“Abby Lee Miller,” he says in response as he grabs a mug. He’s about to pour himself some coffee when she takes the coffee pot from him and puts it on the counter.

She takes his hands and commands, “Dance with me.”

Clint laughs and pats her on the head. “Sorry, kid, my dancing days are over. Never was much good at it to begin with.”

“Come on, Clint. Nobody puts Baby in a corner.” She shimmies and jumps to the music, moving his arms around while she does. He laughs, but doesn’t push her away. “You know you want to dance.”

A Bob Seger song comes on, and Clint’s hips move, just a little, and then he’s striking a pose and playing air guitar. She bumps his hip with hers as she joins him. Soon, they’re shouting the lyrics to “Old Time Rock and Roll” at the top of their lungs, dancing and sliding around the wooden floors in their socks. 

 

 

 

TONY

“I’m bored.”

Darcy looks up at Tony as she waits for Pepper in Tony’s living room. “That’s nice.”

“Let’s play a game.” Darcy knows by now never to trust Tony when those words come out of his mouth.

“No.”

“Come on.”

“No.”

“If you’re still thinking about the incident, it was only that one time.”

“No.” Poor Clint was too afraid to go into the air ducts for weeks after the incident. 

Tony ignores that. Instead, he suggests, “DDR?” 

Darcy pauses. She loves DDR. And really, how much trouble could they get in playing it? “Fine. But you’re setting up.”

Tony is ridiculously competitive, but then, so is Darcy, and they play round after round, neck and neck, until they hear Pepper say, “JARVIS, I hope you’re recording video of this.”

Tony whirls so hard he loses his balance. Rather than help him up, Darcy continues the final thirty seconds of the song, and declares herself the victor. She turns and sees Steve, Natasha, and Pepper sitting on the couch, watching them. Ignoring Tony’s “That’s cheating!” she grins at them. 

“Who wants next?”

 

 

BRUCE

“Hey, big guy. What’re you doing up here?”

Bruce doesn’t move from his seat on the roof. “Nice dress. Why aren’t you at the charity ball?”

She steps gingerly towards him, trying not to trip on her dress. “Charity ball is just a code word for really lame party. Why aren’t you there?”

“My invite must have gotten lost in the mail.” He smiles that resigned, self-deprecating smile that breaks Darcy’s heart. On some level, she can understand the reasoning for it. Putting Bruce in a crowded, enclosed environment when said environment has the potential to be highly stressful—and, Darcy admits, the best parties always have some form of stressful melodrama involved—is not a good idea. But they don’t have to see that look on Bruce’s face, and she just wants to take them all on for slighting her friend.

“Well, I figured I’d bring the party to you. I brought drinks.” She lifts a cheap plastic bag that’s in her free hand and brandishes it at him.

“I’m not in the mood to drink tonight, Darce.” 

“That’s why I brought two bottles of tea. It’s not your nice relaxation tea, but it’ll do. Also, I brought music.” She pulls her phone from her bra and clicks through to the music she’s got on there. She turns the volume all the way up, which isn’t very loud, but loud enough. She holds her hands out to him. “Come on, dance with me.”

Bruce smiles and shakes his head when he recognizes the song. “No.”

“Come on.”

He laughs. “I’m not dancing to _Thriller_.”

“I know you know this, Dr. Banner.” She starts the dance. She’d thought she was so cool when she’d taught herself in the eighth grade, but doing it now, by herself, feels silly. “You going to be a jerk and make me feel stupid for doing this all by myself?”

For a minute she thinks he is, but then the chorus hits and he’s there next to her and they’re singing and laughing and dancing, and it feels good.

 

 

NATASHA

“That didn’t hurt?” Darcy asks with a sympathetic wince as she once again steps on Natasha’s toes. It’s not on purpose. Okay, it’s kind of on purpose. When she’d asked Natasha to teach her how to defend herself, she was not expecting dance lessons. Apparently the goal here is to teach her grace, balance, and rhythm, all of which she sorely lacks as Natasha had found out during Darcy’s first lesson. Nat had tried to a ballet lesson after that, but…that had not been pretty.

So now they waltzed. Or Natasha waltzed, patiently counting time, while Darcy muttered under her breath and stepped on toes.

“Why don’t we do ‘Thriller’ instead? I’m really good at that. Or DDR. Oh! We can hit up a club. I have excellent rhythm there.”

Natasha smiles faintly. “Perhaps, but there you have no discipline. You need all of it. Grace, balance, rhythm, discipline.”

“Discipline was not on your original list,” Darcy complains as Natasha leads her around the gym.

“It was,” Natasha says firmly. “Come now. Concentrate. Steve was easier to teach.”

Darcy makes a face. “Yeah, well thanks to his super juice, he got all that stuff in one fell swoop.”

Natasha laughs, pauses to correct Darcy’s posture, then resumes the dance. “I didn’t say he was good.” And yeah, Darcy can picture that, which makes her grin. It also distracts her, which means that once again she’s trodding over Natasha’s toes. And this one actually makes the assassin wince. 

“Sorry.”

Natasha stops and examines Darcy critically. “Maybe you’ll have an easier time with Steve.” She doesn't. It's a lot worse. 

 

 

STEVE

She tries to let the pulse of the music take her away, moving her body to the music and trying to forget all the things that have consumed her. The team’s been gone for a week, and they haven’t heard anything. She’s been haunting S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, hungry for any word from them or of them. Apparently she’s been driving Hill crazy, and she’s barred Darcy from the S.H.I.E.L.D. floors of the tower.

Darcy can’t go home—not where she’ll be alone in her apartment with nothing to do but think and worry and imagine all of the worst-case scenarios. So she heads to a club instead and tries to lose herself in the music. She dances by herself, shooing away any unwanted attention until she feels a prickle of awareness, like someone is watching her. Her knees almost buckle in relief when she sees Steve closing in on her from the crowd. He stands in front of her awkwardly, until Darcy puts her hands on his hips, guiding him and making them move to the music with her. He pulls her against him, and moves with her as best as he can.

She’s missed this, the heat of him, his body close against hers, and she’s not ready to let him go.

Then the song stops, and he kisses her once, twice, and slips an arm around her waist. He nuzzles against her hair and whispers, “Let’s go home.” 


End file.
